Dribble Drabbles: Usagi and Mamoru
by Stormlight
Summary: Reposting some old drabbles I wrote years ago, mostly centering around my favorite Sailor Moon couple, and set mainly in the first and second seasons. These drabbles were not written in order, nor are they technically complete. That may or may not change.
1. Hair

_A series of old Sailor Moon drabbles I wrote a few years back, centering mostly around Usagi and Mamoru. The length varies from drabble to drabble, some are longer than others. Very few are _true_ drabbles (exactly 100 words). There are supposed to be 100, but I never did get around to finishing them. That may change. It may not. In the meantime, I'll be reposting what I already wrote. With maybe a few revisions in between._

_FYI, these are not written and posted in any sort of order. They're completely random and very few tie in with each other. These are not meant to be actual stories with any deep meaning hidden inside. They're merely snippets and glimpses into the lives of my two favorite characters._

* * *

><p><em>#3 Hair<em>  
><em>Characters: UsagiMamoru_  
><em>Words: 467<em>

Her hair was like strands of spun gold, glistening in the sunlight.

Such a cliché and overused saying, like something straight out of those cheesy, unrealistic chick flicks he detested so much. The kind of movie _she_ probably loved, and would sit and squeal over for hours with her friends. He knew this because he'd witnessed the squealing first hand on more than one occasion.

Wasn't there some fairy tale or other about a princess having to spin straw into gold in order to prove herself to the fairy queen and thus win the hand of her prince? He imagined _her_ hair was what that gold would have looked like; long, glistening ropes as soft as silk, scented and fragrant with enticing hints of lilies and rosemary. The kind of perfect, fairytale hair belonging to the perfect, fairytale princess.

Mamoru blinked, coming out of his daze, and glanced at his empty coffee cup suspiciously. Exactly how much caffeine _had_ he consumed today, anyway?

He glanced back to the table, where the object of his current fixation was supposed to be sitting, gossiping with her gaggle of friends and whining about how much homework she had to finish (although he doubted she ever did any of it, anyway). To his surprise, a pair of suspicious blue eyes were staring back at him, exactly the color of blue crystals held up to the light…

_Gaah__! Stop that,_ _Chiba!_

They stared at each other for a long, appraising moment, dark cerulean holding crystal blue, before Mamoru allowed a faint smile to quirk his lips, raising his empty cup to her in a mock salute. The action appeared to break the spell.

Ignoring her friends' questioning protests, Usagi abruptly stood and struggled past their laps to march determinedly forward, a fierce scowl on her pretty face that she probably thought made her look threatening, but in actuality made her look adorable.

Like a kitten with her fur all ruffled, pretending to be a lion…

Mamoru mentally smacked himself, just before the girl reached him and stood with hands planted firmly on hips. "And just what is so fascinating about me that you have to keep boring holes into the back of my skull?" she demanded in a high, frustrated voice. "You're wigging me out!"

Mamoru regarded her for another moment, then smiled again, noting how she suddenly flushed and blinked and looked away, as if embarrassed. "Oh, nothing much," he replied lightly. "I was just admiring the way your hair shines in the sunlight, that's all. It's really beautiful, you know."

And with those words, he set the empty mug on the counter with a dull _tunk_, picked up his books, and proceeded to stroll casually out of the arcade, leaving an openmouthed and extremely speechless Usagi gaping after him.


	2. Sweet 16

_#10 Sweet 16_  
><em>Characters: UsagiMamoru_  
><em>Words: 625<em>

She squirmed with anticipation at the sight of the large, colorfully wrapped package on the coffee table in front of her. It was even more interesting than the small birthday cake it sat beside, on which the words Happy Sweet 16 were carefully written in pale pink frosting, glowing in the light of sixteen candles that barely managed to fit onto its round surface. Across from her, Mamoru sat with his legs crossed and his hands folded serenely on his lap, candlelight dancing in his dark eyes, the very picture of innocence. Well, except for the sly smile currently gracing his handsome features. He knew very well that Usako was dying to tear into the present, refraining only because she was attempting to act mature and ladylike on this most special birthday (seeing as how she was practically an adult now and all).

Finally, she couldn't take the suspense any longer, regarding him with huge, pleading eyes. "Can I open it?" she begged, glancing again at the large, foil-wrapped present.

He grinned. "Don't you want to blow out your candles first?"

She pursed her lips, then shrugged. "Later," she promised, giving him a smile of her own, reaching for the present.

It took mere seconds to tear off the pink foil wrapping, and when she opened the box, she looked inside to find … another box. Wrapped in metallic red paper. She blinked, regarded her boyfriend suspiciously before lifting the smaller box out of the larger and unwrapping that, as well.

Mamoru nearly laughed aloud at her strangled screech of frustration when she discovered yet _another_ box inside the red-wrapped one. "Is something wrong?" he asked, with all the innocence of the cat who'd just swallowed the hamster.

She eyed him for another moment, then allowed a small grin to escape as she slowly unwrapped the green-foiled box. "Okay, what is it? It's a new video game, isn't it? I've been hinting that I wanted the new role-playing game that just came out."

"No, it's better than that," he assured her confidently.

She laughed and shook her head when she found yet _another_ box, wrapped in gold foil. It was the size of a DVD case, but didn't rattle when she shook it.

She thought. "The hard-to-find manga I've been looking for?" Her Mamo-chan had a knack for finding rare treasures that she couldn't seem to locate no matter _how_ many bookstores she braved.

"Better."

What was better than manga?

"_Oh!_ The new handheld gaming system that just came out! I _love_ you!" she squealed.

He did laugh, then. "Sorry to disappoint, but no."

She sighed and shook her head, opened the gold-wrapped box … only to find, inside, a small, silvery-velvet jewelry box. Her breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flamed, her eyes watered as she slowly, reverently opened the box to reveal an elegant ring of platinum, set with a large, glittering white diamond and four small sapphires encircling it.

"_Oh,_" she gasped, as Mamoru lifted the ring from the box. "Oh—Mamo-chan, it's—" For once, she was completely speechless.

"This symbolizes you," Mamoru explained, tapping the diamond, "and this is me." He tapped the sapphires. "My arms, embracing you. Protecting you. Always. If you'll have me."

She stifled a sob as he slipped the ring onto the third finger of her left hand, his smile tender and just a little nervous. "So," he whispered, rubbing her shaking hands between his own. "Is it a better present than a video game?"

Her only reply was to launch herself into his arms and cover his face with kisses, which he returned with all his heart.

The birthday candles never did get blown out that night. She had nothing left to wish for, after all.


	3. Short Skirt

_#5 Short Skirt_ _  
>Characters: UsagiMamoru/Minako_ _  
>Words: 546<em>

"It's too short!"

Minako frowned at Usagi's reflection in the mirror of the dressing room. "No, it isn't."

"If I bend over, everyone can see my panties!" Usagi wailed, tugging at the hemline of the extremely short, gray-and-pink plaid skirt Minako had somehow talked her into trying on, as well as the little pink, midriff-bearing t-shirt to match.

"So don't bend over," Minako giggled. "You're exaggerating, anyway."

"I want to try something else," Usagi insisted, pouting. "Get me that blue jean skirt. The _long_ one."

Minako huffed. "Wasn't the point of this trip to find something cute or sexy to wear so Mamoru will notice you? This outfit is cute _and_ sexy. Trust me. Mamoru _will_ notice you."

"Along with the rest of the city's population," Usagi grumbled.

"Ah, the sacrifices we girls must make to beat some sense into the heads of the men we love." Minako sighed dramatically and leaned against the doorframe, gazing out over the large shopping area. She abruptly straightened, a wicked gleam entering her eyes. "Stay right there. I'll be back!" she chirped, and disappeared before Usagi could start asking questions, making a beeline for the men's department across the aisle.

She was back only a few moments later, dragging with her—much to Usagi's horror—a protesting Mamoru, who clutched a package of socks in one hand as he vainly tried to pull the other free of Minako's vice-like grip.

"Oh, don't worry! I just need your opinion on something, okay? It'll only take a minute," she giggled as she pulled him to a stop before an extremely mortified Usagi. "So. Do you think this outfit looks good on her? I mean, if she was, you know, trying to attract a man's attention, would this do it?"

Mamoru took one glance at the little odango standing before him, looking unusually self-conscious in what had to be one of the cutest, most _daring_ outfits he had ever seen her wearing. His thought process abruptly came to a screeching halt. "Y-y-you—Odango—That's—" he stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence. Finally, having regained control of his vocal chords, he bellowed, _"Exactly who is this jerk you're trying to attract?"_

Usagi blinked up at him, taken aback.

"Oh, that doesn't matter!" Minako hastily cut in, waving a hand dismissively. "So, is it suitable?"

"N-no," he choked, as the package of socks was slowly reduced to a handful of crushed plastic and cotton. "It's not suitable at all. Find something else!" He glanced wildly around, grabbed a hanger off the nearest rack and thrust it at Usagi. "Here. Try this instead!" He turned on his heel and stormed away, muttering under his breath.

The girls exchanged disbelieving glances, looking down at the outfit Mamoru had shoved at them; a long-sleeved, turtleneck dress in dark brown that reached past the knees. It was the ugliest dress either of them had ever seen. Twin smiles of delight spread across their faces.

"So ... jealous?" Usagi asked hopefully, tossing the dress on the discarded clothes rack.

"_So_ jealous," came the elated response. "You _definitely_ got his attention."

"Yeah…"

"So, gonna buy the outfit?"

"Yeah…"

"Great! Let's go pay for the clothes, and _then_ you can pay him a visit!"

"Yeah. Uh, Minako?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Can I borrow some money?"

"Usagi!"


	4. Jacket

_#41 Jacket_ _  
>Characters: Usagithe senshi/Mamoru  
>Words: 1,314<em>

"Are you _sure_ that thing isn't broken?"

Usagi glared mistrustfully at the palm-sized computer Ami held, which was currently running an experimental GPS mode and honing in on a stray youma. Well, that was the _theory_, anyway. Usagi had her doubts. "It's been leading us all over the city, and so far we haven't found the stupid youma. What if it's picking up like a … a moth or a bird or something?"

"Then it's probably an evil, soul-sucking moth or bird," Makoto put in cheerfully.

"Change of direction, girls," Ami announced, and they hastily backtracked, attempting to catch up with the fast-moving little blip on the computer screen.

"Don't youma ever get _tired_?" Usagi wailed. "It's six o'clock and I'm missing my favorite anime on TV!"

"Grow up, Odango-brains!" Rei hollered. "Catching a rampaging youma is more important than some stupid anime!" That didn't keep her from discreetly checking her own watch when nobody was looking.

"Hey, isn't that Mamoru's apartment complex?" Minako pointed to a large, ritzy-looking building right across the street.

"Hey, yeah, it is!" Rei suddenly looked a lot more cheerful. "Maybe we can stop in to visit?"

"But, Rei, catching rampaging youma is more important than visiting some baka," Usagi mimicked snidely, earning a kick in the shin.

"Uh, girls?" Ami shifted nervously. "It … uh … seems that our youma has gone into that building."

"_What__?"_

Shoving Usagi away, Rei purred, "Well, what a coincidence! We can catch our youma _and_ visit Mamoru at the same time!"

"I've always wondered what his apartment looks like," Makoto admitted.

"Maybe Motoki-san will be with him!" Minako added with starry eyes.

"I'll bet he has a fantastic library. I always see him carrying medical books," Ami sighed dreamily.

Usagi gaped at her friends, realizing that there was probably no talking sense into any of them. "But … but…" she tried to protest, but Makoto and Minako already had her by both arms and were dragging her backwards across the street.

"Come on, fearless leader!" Makoto chirped. "No time like the present for some serious youma ass-whomping!"

"But—"

"We won't take long, and maybe Mamoru will offer refreshments. Seeing as how we just rid his building of a horrible monster and all."

"But he doesn't even know we fight evil!"

"Oh. Well, I'm sure he'll offer us refreshments anyway. It's the polite thing to do."

By that time, they'd succeeded in wrestling Usagi into the elevator, where Ami instructed Rei to punch the seventeenth floor. "That's Mamoru's floor," Rei said with surprise. She'd visited Mamoru before.

"Gee. Lucky us," Usagi grumbled.

The elevator arrived, and they tumbled out in a heap. Ami followed the little blip down the hallway about five doors, stopping before a door whose number read 1506 and whose nameplate read Chiba, Mamoru.

Five jaws dropped respectively.

"No. _Way_," Makoto breathed.

"I always _knew_ he was evil," Usagi added smugly.

Rei responded with a whap upside the head.

"Um, shouldn't we change costume or something?" Makoto suggested.

"And how're we supposed to explain to Mamoru why the Senshi just showed up outside his apartment?"

"Well, gee. Maybe 'cause there's a youma _inside_ his apartment?"

"More like 'cause he _is_ the youm—_OW_! _Stop_ it, Rei!"

"Well, only one way to find out!" Minako cheerfully rang the doorbell.

"The toll of doom," Usagi grumbled, rubbing her sore head. "Are you _sure_ I can't just dust him and ask questions later?"

"_NO!_"

"Eh … no … what?" Mamoru stood in the doorway, having just opened the door, and was now blinking down at the five girls standing in the hallway, attempting to clear his ringing ears. "Um, what are you all doing here?"

"Think fast," Makoto muttered to Rei, who immediately stepped forward and flashed a bright smile.

"Hi, Mamoru-san!" she chirped. "We were in the neighborhood and thought we'd come by a bit to visit! You don't mind, do you?"

"Uh, well…" Mamoru glanced nervously around, not at all comfortable with the thought of five teenage girls invading his home. Particularly _these_ teenage girls. Still, seeing no way to send them off without being rude, he reluctantly stepped aside and let them in.

"Oh, wow!" Minako gushed, spinning around. "This place is great! I bet you have a lot of parties here, huh?"

"Eh … not really."

"What a great kitchen!" Makoto exclaimed, beelining right for it as she gestured discreetly toward the girls.

"Um…" Mamoru hastily followed Makoto into the kitchen, and as soon as they disappeared, there was a frenzy of gestures and hisses.

"Where's the youma?"

"That way, about ten feet."

"There _can't_ be a youma in here. Don't you think he'd have _noticed_ a big, ugly monster in his apartment?"

"Not if he _is_ the—Ha! Missed me, Rei!"

"Quick, check it out while he's distracted!"

They hastily made their way across the wide room, toward what looked like a closet. Minako carefully opened the door as everyone tensed to tackle whatever came flying out. However, once open, they merely stood there and gaped, jaws dropping as their eyes took in the sight of something more horrible than anything even _they_ could have imagined.

There were no less than six familiar, exceedingly ugly green blazers hanging neatly in the closet, except for one, which had apparently slipped off its hanger. When Usagi picked it up, it was still warm from its owner's body heat.

The compact computer in Ami's hand abruptly gave a satisfied beep and shut off with a click, its work completed.

"We've been … following a _jacket_?" Rei asked weakly.

"The jacket … that Mamoru was probably wearing as he went on his errands," Ami replied. She eyed her computer doubtfully. Maybe it _was_ malfunctioning.

"Wow," Minako gasped. "You were right, Usagi. Mamoru _is_ evil!"

"Well, that _jacket_ is, anyway." Usagi eyeballed the green wool with distaste. "And what's with the rest of them? What guy in his right mind would want six identical jackets? It's like fashion victim hell in here!"

"Oh, sweet merciful saints, it must be _spawning_," Minako breathed with fascinated horror. "Kill it quick, before the evil spreads further!"

"There's only one thing to do," Usagi stated grimly. "It's for his own good." She reached for her locket, only to be stopped by Rei.

"We can't henshin in here! Mamoru's _right there._"

"We gotta do something! Even _I_ don't hate the guy enough to let him be brainwashed by the spawn of evil! Besides, it might be contagious!" Both she and Minako shuddered.

"Okay, I have an idea. Hurry!" Ami whispered, and there was more scuffling as they set to work saving Mamoru from … his fashion sense.

When Mamoru finally talked Makoto back out of his kitchen, he was surprised to see the others standing exactly where he'd left them, all bunched together in a little group as if they'd somehow glued themselves together when he wasn't looking. "Well, it's been great seeing you, Mamoru," Rei chirped, "but we've gotta run now. Homework to do. Dinner to eat. You know how it goes. See you later, okay?"

He blinked. "I … uh … But you just—" he stuttered, but his guests were already edging to the door.

"Later!" Makoto sang as she skipped toward them, and with a series of pushes and shoves, the entire gaggle of them tumbled into the hall and beat a hasty retreat. Mamoru followed them out, thoroughly confused, and watched them pile into the elevator. He noticed that some of them seemed … suspiciously lumpy around the middle. "What the—?"

Shaking his head, he stepped back inside his apartment. And then a terrible suspicion hit him. Eyes widening, he turned slowly toward his closet, expecting to see the door closed as it always was.

It stood wide open, its empty, cavernous depths gaping back at him.

His beloved green jackets—every one of them—were gone.

"_Noooooo!_"


	5. Past & Death

_Every once in awhile, I'll post two drabbles together, since they tie in so nicely together. Don't think of it as cheating. I prefer to think of it as "multi-tasking"._

* * *

><p><em>#11<em>_Past__and__#18__Death_  
><em>Characters:<em>_Usagi/Mamoru_  
><em>Words:<em>_1022_

He'd been crying for awhile now.

His eyes were red and sore, his nose was runny, and he was so caught up in his eight-year-old misery that he didn't notice anyone standing outside his hospital room door until he heard the _tip-tap_ of little shoes against sterile, white tile. He lifted his face from its place against bony knees and looked down.

A small child stood just beside his bed, regarding him through wide, curious blue eyes.

He blinked at her. She blinked back. She was a tiny girl, couldn't have been more than five years old. Her head barely topped the mattress. Her hair was a tangle of golden silk, caught up in twin buns with short, curling tails. Her face was sweet and innocent, and in her arms, she held the biggest bunch of red roses he had ever seen.

They regarded each other for a long, silent moment, before the child abruptly broke into a huge smile and sang out in a sweet voice, "Happy birthday!"

He blinked at her in astonishment, completely forgetting to cry. "It's not my birthday," he pointed out. At least, he didn't _think_ it was. He couldn't really remember one way or the other.

"I know," the little girl said. "It's my _brother's_ birthday. Today he's—" She scrunched up her little face in concentration. "—zero years old," she finished proudly.

He rolled his eyes at her. "How can somebody be _zero_ years old?"

"Cuz he jus _came_ today." As if it should have been the most _obvious_ thing in the world. "What's your name?"

He hesitated. What _was_ his name, anyway? "Mamoru," he said, because that's what the doctor had told him it was, and as he didn't remember for himself, he had no choice but to trust the doctor.

"Why was you crying, Mamo-chan?"

He wrinkled his nose at the nickname. Then his face flushed as he belatedly remembered that, yes, he had been crying a great deal. "I wasn't crying," he protested sulkily.

She tilted her head to one side. "Is it 'cuz you was hurt?" She regarded the thick, white bandages covering Mamoru's body.

"I wasn't _crying_," he repeated sternly, wondering where all the nurses were now that he actually _wanted_ one of them in the room to chase the annoying little busybody away.

"Is it 'cuz your mommy and daddy isn't here? Don' worry, they'll come back soon."

Mamoru froze, breath wheezing in and out of his suddenly tight throat, because the girl was wrong, his parents weren't coming back, they were never coming back again, and he couldn't _remember_ them damn it why couldn't he _remember_ them? The tears he'd been forcing back began creeping forward again and suddenly he felt lost and alone and scared and he didn't _want_ to be scared. He didn't want to be alone but who _was_ he and why was he _there_ and where would he _go_ and-

"Th-they're not coming," he gasped out, pushing back his tangled black hair with shaking hands. "They're never coming—"

"How come?"

"Because they're _dead_!" Mamoru screeched, glaring down at her through tearing, burning eyes. _Go__away__go__away__go_ away_!_ "They're dead and I'll never see them again and I'll never even remember what they _look_ like and—and—" He couldn't speak anymore. The tears were too thick in his throat.

The child gazed up at him, her little face screwed up with distress at the sight of his tears. "Don't cry," she told him. "They not dead. My mommy said people don't _really_ die."

He sniffed hard and glared down at her. "Well, what do they do, then?" he demanded harshly.

"They get new bodies!" At his disbelieving glance, she nodded vigorously, sending her ponytails to bouncing. "Mommy said when people die, they get to have brand new bodies."

Mamoru frowned skeptically. "New _bodies_?"

"Uh-huh!" She smiled brightly. "New bodies don't get old and sick like _these_ ones do. And they even has _wings_, so the person can fly waaay up in the sky and live there!" She pointed out the window excitedly. "But sometimes they come down to visit them people that don't got the new bodies yet, only you can't _sees_ them 'cuz they're in … in-vis-ba-ble." She pronounced the last word slowly and carefully, while Mamoru simply stared at her in bewilderment.

"Th-that's the dumbest thing I ever heard," he finally sputtered, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "There aren't any such things as _angels_."

The child's proud smile faded at those words, and she looked up at him with big, wounded eyes. "But ... Mommy _said_ so." Her lip quivered as fat tears welled.

Mamoru felt a moment of panic. He hadn't meant to make her _cry_. "Well, uh, m-maybe your mom's right," he quickly backtracked. "Maybe angels do exist. If you can't see them, \you can't really tell if they do or not, right? Maybe my m-mom and dad are visiting me right now and I just … can't see them. Like you said."

For some reason, those words made him feel a lot better. The thought of his parents being there, watching over him, although he couldn't even remember their faces, was somehow … comforting.

The knot in his throat loosened a bit.

The girl sniffled, then gave him her big, shining smile before climbing awkwardly onto the bed. "Uh … hey…" he started to object, only to fall silent when she pressed a wet, sloppy kiss to his cheek. He grimaced in protest, but when she thrust one of her roses into his hands, he forgot his displeasure as his eyes widened. "Y-you're giving this to me?"

"Uh-huh. It's a get well present," she replied as she climbed off the bed. "Don't cry anymore, 'kay? You'll make your mommy sad." She flashed a big grin, turned to skip out of the room. As she passed the window, sunlight momentarily blanketed her in a soft, golden haze.

Mamoru blinked in astonishment, rubbed his eyes fiercely, blinked again.

For just a moment, in that pool of light, he'd glimpsed a pair of fluttering, angelic wings upon her tiny back.


	6. Shipwreck

_#43 __Shipwreck_  
><em>Characters: <em>_Usagi/Mamoru  
>Words: <em>_260_

"I'm telling you, you're turning it too fast!"

"Be quiet, Mamoru-baka! I know what I'm doing!"

"You're going to crash it if you don't watch where you're going."

"I am not. Stop distracting me, I'm trying to steer!"

"I can't watch this. I really can't."

"Don't watch then! Pay attention to yourself!"

"Odango, you should listen to your superiors when they're trying to give you good advice."

"Oh, well if one of them shows up, I'll be sure to ask for it."

"Odang—_W__atch __out __for __that __rock__!_"

"I _saw_ it. Stop yelling!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Don't pitch a fit."

"Just watch the road, will you?"

"It's a _pond_, Odango."

"Ooooh! Just shut up and watch what you're—Wait—No, _stop!_ Turn around, you're gonna—!"

_Crunch_

"_Mamoru-bakaaaa!_ You sank my battleship!" Usagi burst into wails and threw down the controller of the toy ship she'd been steering at the amusement park's RC boat pond, stomping away in a fit of rage.

"Wait, Odango!" Laughing, Mamoru turned to follow her, perhaps soothe her ire with an offer of ice cream. However, a hard, calloused hand latching firmly onto his shoulder put a halt to _that_ idea. Gulping, he turned to face the attraction owner's forboding glare from beneath the brim of a battered old skipper's cap.

"Just a minute, pal. Who's gonna pay for those?" the old man growled, pointing at the smoking, sinking wreckage of what had once been a pair of expensive model boats.

"Eh…" Mamoru scratched his head and nervously tried on a winning smile. "Do you take credit cards?"


	7. Weapon

_#31 Weapon_ _  
>Characters: UsagiMamoru/The Gang  
>Words: 312<em>

"Choose your weapons!"

Motoki's voice rang through the air. There was a great scuffle as everyone darted forward at once, grabbing their weapon of choice and leaping back to safety, facing off in preparation for the oncoming war.

From across the expanse of their battleground, Usagi and Mamoru mock-glared at each other as their comrades-at-arms hurled insults and jeers. Her eyes narrowed as a smile twitched her lips. "You ready to die today, Chiba?"

His cocky smirk betrayed his overconfidence. "I'm shaking in my shorts. Bring it on, Odango!"

On Mamoru's left, Makoto smirked at Minako. "Better be careful or I might muss your hair."

"Just try it," Minako growled, narrowing her eyes and looking about as threatening as a wet kitten. Beside her, Rei was grinning evilly at Ami, who looked as if she couldn't figure out how she'd gotten talked into this business, and whether it was too late to go read a book, instead.

Motoki grinned from his vantage point above the heads of the opposing armies, savoring the rising bloodlust in the air. He raised the whistle to his lips and blew until his face turned red.

The two opposing forces leapt toward each other with deafening battle cries, raising weapons high as they ploughed their way through the depths of the sparkling, chlorine-scented swimming pool. They met in the middle with a powerful splash, and immediately began beating the crap out of each other with colorful, foam rubber noodles, shrieking and laughing and generally having a wonderful time cooling off from the scorching, summer heat.

Motoki tossed the whistle aside and gave himself a mental pat on the back for coming up with such a fabulous idea, then grabbed a yellow noodle and leapt into the pool to join the fun … and maybe rescue Mamoru from being thoroughly trounced by Usagi while he was at it.


	8. Lightning

_#51 Lightning_ _  
>Characters: UsagiMamoru  
>Words: 886<em>

"Sounds like a war going on out there." Mamoru glanced at the sliding door leading to his balcony. Past the spotless glass, the sky was dark with thick, roiling clouds through which jagged streaks of silver-white electricity crackled. It was the most spectacular lightning storm he'd ever been witness to. Mother Nature was venting her fury at the world below, and he found himself rather awed by the power of it.

The small, shivering form huddled against his side, however, wasn't nearly as impressed. "Make it _stop_," she whimpered, jumping as another gunshot-loud crack made the atmosphere vibrate around them. The cups sitting on the coffee table hummed, the remaining droplets of condensation beaded on their sides shivering. Mamoru felt the hairs on his arms raise in response to the electrical tension.

In the meantime, his girlfriend was attempting to burrow a hole into his side, and he felt a moment of pity, knowing how much she hated lightning. He sighed and rubbed her arm, trying to soothe her. "It'll be over soon, Usako. We'll be okay. Just bear with it."

"I'm trying," she whimpered, and proceeded to curl into a little ball when another crack split the air.

Mamoru stroked her back as she quivered against his leg. "Why do you hate lightning so much?" he asked He had to admit, he'd never understood such unreasoning fear.

Usagi rested her golden head against his knee as his fingers stroked through her ponytails idly. "I-it's just that … it brings back bad memories," she admitted, after a long, silent moment.

He frowned. "Bad memories? Did something happen when you were little?"

"No." She shook her head. "Not memories from … _this_ life," she clarified reluctantly. "You said it sounds like a war outside. Well, it _does_. I never knew why I'm always so scared, until awhile ago, when I remembered our lives _before_. It's a gut instinct, like a nightmare hovering at the back of my mind that I can't really _remember_, but it's always there."

"Usako," he breathed, suddenly realizing.

The Moon Kingdom, Princess Serenity, and the final, vicious war that had ended everything, including both their lives. His knowledge of that time was vague, but Usagi remembered more clearly the tragic events that had destroyed her former kingdom. No wonder she was so afraid of something that echoed the horrifying sounds of her past.

He held her closer in silent apology for not understanding her fear sooner, for so often laughing it off instead of trying to ease her fear. With resolution, he scooped her into his arms and stood, carrying her to the door. Her eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what're you doing?" she squeaked as he slid it open and stepped outside.

"Shhh." He nuzzled her ear. "It's okay, Usako. I just want to show you there's nothing to fear from the storm. It isn't a war. It's just nature. Watch with me for awhile."

"But—"

He silenced her with a soft kiss. "Just watch." He put her down, wrapped his arms around her waist, her back to his chest. "Remember, I'm here to protect you. Try to forget you're afraid, and focus on the beauty, instead."

"Beauty?" She glanced doubtfully at the seething, flickering clouds, backing further into Mamoru's embrace. Light flared close at hand, followed by a dull crack. She jumped, then again when Mamoru's warm breath ghosted across her throat, followed by soft lips pressing tenderly to her fluttering pulse. Her breath stilled as he began a gentle, caressing suction, effectively distracting her mind while turning her legs to butter. She released a shaky sigh and leaned into him, gazing up at the sky through half-lidded eyes.

The lightning still flashed and crackled, charging the air with its essence, but with Mamoru so close at hand, she was somehow forgetting to be afraid. There was something wild and beautiful and powerful about the storm, which she could finally see without the blinding fear distracting her from the natural glory of it. It echoed how she felt inside now, as Mamoru continued to pay homage to her throat; her pulse still raced madly, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

After a long while, he raised his head to nuzzle at her ear. "So, do you see what I mean now?"

"Yeah," she managed to reply. "It is kind of awe-inspiring, huh?"

He grinned against her hair. "Will you be afraid anymore?"

She gave him a sweet smile. "Not as long as you'll protect me." She was rewarded with a soft, beguiling kiss.

The sky went suddenly, blindingly white.

The air seemed to scream as lightning streaked from the clouds, meeting the top of a skyscraper only a few thousand feet away. It struck with a crack that made the balcony shake under their feet, so loudly that their ears popped from the pressure.

They leapt apart with startled yelps, scrambling back into the apartment and slamming the door so hard that the glass almost cracked. They regarded each other with wide eyes before Mamoru offered a sheepish grin and scratched his head. "I guess lightning storms _can_ be kind of scary," he admitted with a rueful chuckle.

Usagi giggled as she drew his face toward hers. "Don't worry, Mamo-chan," she whispered as their lips met. "I'll protect you."


	9. Rain at Midnight

_#32 Rain at_ _Midnight_ _  
>Characters: UsagiMamoru  
>Words: 782<em>

"What are you _doing_ out here?"

The unexpected demand was loud enough to startle Usagi from her silent reverie of the star-dotted sky. She jumped and yelped, turning around on her bench to face the speaker. Her tensed body relaxed when she saw Mamoru standing there, scowling fiercely under a dark umbrella that shimmered dully with moisture. She noted with some surprise that at some point it had begun to rain in a fine, soft mist. She'd been so lost in thought, she hadn't even noticed.

"Do you even know what time it is?" Mamoru continued in the same bossy tone.

Usagi pursed her lips, slightly amused by his father-hen manner, but a lot more annoyed. "I dunno. Late?" She turned her back on him again, hoping he'd take the hint and leave.

"It's twelve-oh-three in the morning, Odango," Mamoru scolded, coming around to stand before her, half-shielding her with the umbrella. "It's raining, and you aren't even wearing a jacket. So, again I ask, what are you doing?"

Usagi huffed. "I'm dancing the tango!" At his narrow-eyed stare, she continued snidely, "What does it _look_ like I'm doing, dumbass?"

His jaw dropped as he gaped at her. She'd never _sworn_ before, especially at him! "You've been hanging around Makoto too much," he muttered.

She merely grinned, looking much too pleased with herself for shocking him. "Not that it's any of _your_ business, but I needed to think, so I was just taking a walk." Actually, she'd been fighting a battle with her senshi (not that _he_ needed to know that). It had not gone well, resulting in Mars gaining a slash across the forearm and Sailormoon getting her ears blasted for being too slow to stop it. It wasn't anything unusual, but it was nights like this that she wondered why she bothered trying. Her muscles were overtaxed, screaming at her for the abuse she put them through. Her nerves were equally frazzled. She needed to rest before returning home, where Luna would no doubt scold her more. Running into Mamoru was the last thing she'd expected. Speaking of which…

"Why're _you_ out here, anyway?"

"Oh. Uh, I was … studying late at the university."

Usagi had the strangest feeling he was hiding something, but was too tired to press. "Oh," was all she said as she closed her eyes and leaned back against the cold, damp bench. The rain kissed her face in a cooling caress. She found it relaxing, even with her worst enemy standing there.

"Um." Mamoru shifted nervously. "If there's … you know … anything you ever need to, uh, talk about…" He coughed, tugged at the collar of his black turtleneck. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he finished in a rush.

Usagi blinked, wondering if she'd heard correctly. Was the almighty Chiba Mamoru actually offering _her_ a shoulder to cry on? She suspected a joke, but he looked so sincere (if not slightly embarrassed) that she couldn't help believing him. He really was concerned for her. Her heart swelled a little. Maybe he wasn't as much of a jerk as she'd thought.

"Thanks for the offer, Mamoru." She glanced shyly away. Not that she could actually take him up on it, but, "It's nice to know you care enough to listen. It means a lot." And it did, too. "Maybe someday I can talk about it, but not right now. I'm okay though. Promise." She offered him a hesitant smile, which he returned.

"It must be something pretty serious to drive you out into a deserted park. In the middle of the night. In the rain. But, I won't press." There were a few moments of awkward silence. Then, "Well, um, can I at least walk you home? It's not really safe letting you alone out here."

She gazed up at him, unaware of the way the rain and the street lamp's glow played about her hair and face, bathing her in a misting halo of light. Her limpid eyes held the glow of small stars, and when she smiled, his breath caught at the picture she made. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed her beauty. It _was_ the first time it hit him like a soft fist in the gut. "I'd like that," she said, rising from the bench.

When she stumbled slightly on stiff legs, it felt natural to reach out and catch her hand, steadying her. It felt natural to keep holding on, lacing fingers together in a warm, comforting grasp. The umbrella was closed and cooling rain bathed the couple freely, cleansing mistrust and petty grievances, readying their hearts for the new, fragile love blossoming shyly between them.


	10. Addiction

_#78 Addiction_  
><em>Characters: UsagiMamoru_  
><em>Words: 283<em>

It was obsession. Warm, sensual sweetness melting against her tongue, the pleasurable, saccharine craving. She thought of it every day, longed for it with every breath, every heartbeat. It was an addiction under which she was only too willing to suffer.

She waited in the alley, listening for the sound of shoes tapping against pavement in a rhythm only one person made, a rhythm she knew by heart.

Ah … there it was! Only a little longer and … now! She leapt and grabbed her victim by the arm, smirking at his surprised yelp, dragged him out of the open and into her hiding place. She heard the beginning of a protest and pounced, locked her arms around his neck, buried her fingers into the thick hair at his nape in the way she'd discovered he loved, locked her mouth onto his.

It took only seconds for his tense body to relax, his arms to pull her close against him, his mouth to open and respond, plying her lips in the deep, drugging kisses that left her shaky and breathless and warm and melting all over. When he finally allowed her to slide down his body and touch the ground, and she glanced coyly up at him.

"You've really got to stop attacking me like that," Chiba Mamoru teased as he smiled down at his smug girlfriend. "Somebody's gonna get the wrong idea and try to save me from a mugging."

She grinned and snuggled closer. "It's your own fault," she murmured, playing with the collar of his shirt. "You're the one who kissed me first. Now I'm addicted."

He lowered his head to hers. "You're welcome," he whispered, and kissed her again.


	11. Karma

_#4 Karma (Turns Around and Bites You in the Ass)_ _  
>Characters: UsagiMamoru_  
><em>Words: 434<em>

"Lower the decibels. I can't hear myself think!"

Usagi's wails immediately ceased. She turned a watery, furious glare toward Mamoru, who was standing over her sprawled form, looking exasperated. "Really, Odango, can't you be a little more careful?"

"Y-you're the one who ran into _me_!" she accused, leaping to her feet, fists clenching at her sides, stamping her foot for emphasis. "Why don't _you_ watch where _you're_ going for a change? And I'm _fine_, thanks. Nice of you to _ask_."

"Odango, don't go blaming your klutz attacks on me," Mamoru drawled as he turned to walk away. "You couldn't walk across a room without tripping on stray carpet lint."

Usagi's face turned dull red as she glared at his retreating back. "Just you wait, you smug jerk! Someday you'll get yours, and then you'll _eat_ that shoe!" she shouted, and was answered with a derisive snort.

"It's, 'you'll eat those words'!" He turned his head to smirk at her. "You can't even get your overused clichés righ-"

_Clang_

_Thud_

"Oh, my gosh! I'm so _sorry!_ I didn't see you, honestly!" The gaggle of schoolgirls that had just swarmed out of the shop paused in their noisy retreat down the street. They turned back to gawk at the moaning young man who was now sprawled on the sidewalk, having failed to see the shop door swing open right in front of him.

"Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?" The girl who had opened the door knelt beside him, checking him over.

"Oh, he's fine," Usagi assured her cheerfully as she skipped up to the group. "It hit him in the head, so I doubt it did any serious damage."

"A-are you sure? Maybe I should call for an ambulance…"

"Come on, Keiko! We're gonna be late!" one of her friends exclaimed, grabbing her arm to drag her away.

Mamoru groaned and sat up, and froze when he noticed Usagi crouched before him with her arms tucked around her knees, bag gripped in both hands, regarding him with a perfectly innocent expression.

He braced for what he _knew_ was coming next.

"So!" She graced him with her sweetest smile. "How does that size ten taste?" With that parting shot, she jumped to her feet and turned to skip down the street, laughing evilly.

Mamoru groaned again and rubbed his sore temple, glaring at the offending door that had put him in such a position. And if he wasn't so embarrassed, he might almost have been amused. Painted neatly on that selfsame door in bright red, fancy-scrolled lettering, was the name of the shop:

KARMA


	12. Red String of Destiny

_#56 Red String of Destiny  
><em>_Characters: Usagi/Mamoru  
><em>_Words: 1282_

Only she could get herself into a situation like this.

Usagi gazed despondently upon the mess she'd made of Chiba Mamoru's home and bit her lip, wondering what manner of torture he'd bestow upon her once he got back and discovered what she'd done.

Had things gone according to plan, she would have been out of there _long_ before the owner arrived. Unfortunately, she'd never been very good at planning strategic getaways, which explained why she was now entangled in the center of a huge web of bright red yarn she'd spent the past two hours stringing up throughout Mamoru's large studio apartment.

It would have been the perfect prank, just a little payback for Mamoru's mean comments. It wasn't like she'd done anything _illegal_. After all, it wasn't breaking and entering if the receptionist _gave_ her a key, and she was pretty sure there weren't any laws forbidding people to string yarn around their apartments. Or anybody else's, either.

All the same, she was pretty sure Mamoru would be less than happy to come home and discover the huge web of red yarn strung between everything from his potted plants to his sofa to the track light fixtures in the ceiling. It wove around his stereo system and ridiculously large television, wound the length of the floor lamp, strung across the floor to his computer desk to wrap about the laptop several times before stretching to engulf some expensive-looking vases on the windowsill. It draped over the tall bookshelves filled with many thick, scary-looking textbooks. The books themselves were not spared her wrath; they were cocooned in swaths of red yarn. She had even used all of her artistic talent to weave a rather good imitation of a spider's web between the railed head-and-footboards of Mamoru's bed.

Well … it looked like a spider's web if one tilted their head to the side and squinted _real_ hard at it with one eye…

The problem, however, was that Usagi was having _so_ much fun vandalizing Mamoru's home, she'd failed to realize that she was weaving herself into a neat little pocket in the very center of the chaos.

She had been in that pocket now for the past half hour, having failed all attempts to make her way safely across her net of doom without breaking some _very_ expensive items in the process. She sat nervously watching the clock tick closer and closer to six thirty—the time when Mamoru was supposed to arrive home from his job—and praying for a miracle.

It was now six twenty-seven.

_Maybe he'll be really late,_ she thought hopefully.

Right on cue, the lock on the front door clicked loudly.

She scowled. Leave it to Mamoru to be _early_.

From her vantage point behind the sofa, Usagi couldn't see him in the doorway, but the utter silence that greeted her ears was somehow more dangerous than any screaming fits she might've expected.

Then she heard a footstep, followed by the sound of something dropping. Something heavy, judging by the thud it made against the floor. She winced.

_Ooh. I hope that wasn't something fragile…_

"Wh-what the—Who—?"

Any hopes she harbored of the intruder being a burglar rather than the owner went up in smoke. That was definitely Mamoru's voice. She shrank further down behind the couch.

_Just_ be _the sofa. I am_ one _with the sofa. You do not see me. You do_ not _see—_

"Odango!"

—_Damn._

Usagi cracked one eye and peeped over the sofa, cringing when she saw Mamoru's disbelieving gaze fixed firmly on her from the entrance foyer. Despite the many layers of yarn between them, Usagi could see his flabbergasted expression begin to ease into growing anger, and was suddenly grateful for the five skeins of yarn and fifteen feet separating her from her victim's reach.

"May I ask," he began with exaggerated patience, "just what the _hell_ you think you're doing in here?" He looked around at the tangled mess of knots and webs and shook his head helplessly. "What in the world did you _do_?"

"Uh … I'd decided to take up knitting?" she offered.

He shot her a look. "Try again."

"Ummmm … April Fools!"

He released a snort of laughter. "It's November, Odango."

"Exactly! You'd never expect an April Fool's prank in November, right?" She offered him her most winning smile.

For another moment, he simply glared at her, before the expression began to melt into amused exasperation. "I honestly wonder what goes through that head of yours," he muttered, sounding almost affectionate. "But maybe you should plan out an escape route ahead of time, huh?"

"Yeah, uh, I'll keep that in mind for future reference."

He shook his head and opened the closet door in the little hallway, pulling out a pair of utility scissors. "You're going to stay and help me clean up this mess, right?"

"Oh, well, I … uh…" At his quelling glare, she gulped. "Right, right! I wouldn't _dream_ of leaving before that." She gave a nervous laugh.

Satisfied, Mamoru took the shears and began to cut his way easily through the net of yarn, making a solid path from the doorway to the sofa. Usagi sighed as she watched all of her hard work being demolished in a matter of seconds. So much for her perfect prank…

"So, why did you decide to sneak into my apartment and cover it with string? You're not considering a future career as an interior decorator, are you?"

"Ha ha," she grumbled, batting away a straggling bit of yarn. "It was just a little payback for all your name calling, that's all. If I'd known you keep scissors in your closet, I'd have moved them."

"Yeah. Right behind the couch with you," he teased.

"Oh, shut up." She pouted and batted away at another length of yarn, only to realize it was stuck in her hair. Scowling fiercely at having become the brunt of yet another of Mamoru's jokes, she reached up to yank it from her head.

Mamoru beat her to it, gently pushing her hand away and carefully unwinding the fuzzy string that had tangled around her bun. "So I guess you're still looking for revenge on me after this, since your prank didn't work out," he said conversationally.

She sighed and scowled at the floor. "No, I give up. Obviously, I can't get the better of you," she grumbled.

He paused in his task to consider her. "Does my teasing really bother you that much?" He felt a little guilty about it, and not for the first time, either. A shrug was his only answer, but it was the confirmation he wanted. He tilted her head up until she was forced to look at him, offering a charming smile. "Let me make it up to you by taking you to dinner."

She gaped at him. "By—Dinner—_W__hat__?_"

He chuckled at her bewilderment and held up her hand, placing a tangled knot of red yarn into it. "Dinner. You and me. My treat. There's a great little noodle stand two blocks down. You'll love it."

Her eyes abruptly lit up. "Really? You'll buy me dinner?"

"Yep."

"And you won't tease me anymore?"

"Well…"

"At least for the rest of the week. The month! Um … the rest of the year?" She regarded him expectantly.

He laughed. "As long as you promise not to sneak into my apartment and string it with yarn again," he replied.

"So, I should use toilet paper next time?"

"Usagi…"

"I'm kidding!" She grinned and rubbed her hands together. "So … about those noodles?"

"You'll get your noodles—"

"Yay!"

"—_after_ we clean up this mess."

"…You are a heartless man, Chiba Mamoru."


	13. Kiss

_#8 Kiss  
><em>_Characters: Usagi/Mamoru  
><em>_Words: 847_

"Why do you hate me?"

Mamoru choked on the tea he'd been sipping, nearly spilling it down the front of his shirt as he jerked his startled gaze from the pages of the magazine he'd been perusing. Usagi was sitting in the opposite booth, holding a glass of soda and regarding him with an unusually serious expression. He hadn't even heard her sit down, which was in itself strange, as he normally heard her exuberant laughter from the moment she set foot in the arcade.

She was also alone, he noted. Her friends were nowhere in sight. Yet another strange occurrence. He privately wondered how many more shocks he would receive before this particular meeting was over. "E-excuse me?"

"Why do you hate me?" she repeated, head tilted slightly to the side. "Um, if it's because of something I said or did, I'm sorry. But, honestly, it'd be easier to apologize if I knew what it was, so I wouldn't do it again."

He stared at her, flabbergasted. "Y-you didn't do anything," he stammered, slowly setting down his teacup. "And I never said I hated you … did I?"

"Oh, well, not in so many words." She idly played with a long ponytail. "But I figured with the way you treat me all the time, you must not like me very much, so I thought it must've been something I did to you. Was it that test paper?" She looked up at him again. "Or maybe it was the shoe. I didn't _mean_ to hit you with it, you know. It was just a coincidence that you were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I … I know that," he spluttered. "That's got nothing to do with it!"

"Then what is it?" she persisted. "How did I make you hate me, and how can I … _stop_ making you hate me?"

"I don't hate you!"

She regarded him with a furrowed brow. "Then why do you always tease me and make me feel bad about myself?" She dropped her gaze, looking embarrassed, idly pushing the condensation from her soda glass around the tabletop with a finger. "I thought about it a lot, and I don't like it that you hate me," she admitted softly. "Because I … I _like_ you, and I'd rather be friends than enemies. S-so whatever it takes to make things up, I'll do it."

Mamoru was completely floored. It felt like somebody had just sucker-punched him in the gut. It must have taken a lot of courage for her to confront him like this, and he felt warmed by her sincerity. It didn't occur to him that she might be lying, that it might be some sort of joke. She wasn't the type to do something like that, even to him.

Usagi sighed and slowly rose to her feet, and he belatedly realized she'd taken his thoughtful silence as a sign of rejection. "Well, if you ever decide to forgive me, you know where to find me." She tried to walk away, but a gentle grasp on her hand stilled her.

"You've got it wrong," he said warmly. "I _don't_ hate you. I actually kind of like you. Seems like I'm the one who needs to beg for forgiveness." Her eyes widened slightly as he continued, "I never thought about your feelings before, and that was wrong of me. It was just a game, you know? I didn't really _mean_ anything I said. I'm sorry."

"R-really?" She looked like she half-suspected a trick.

"Really." His smile was kind. "What can I do to make it up to you? Anything you want. Just name it!"

He expected the immediate suggestion of treating her to ice cream, or maybe dinner. Therefore, he was again floored by the next words she uttered. "Would you … k-kiss me?"

He blinked. "W-what?"

She blushed fiercely. "N-never mind! I'm kidding!" She laughed nervously. "Buy me a large ice cream sundae and we'll call it even!"

She took three steps backward, and that was as far as she got because her hand was still in his grasp. She tugged insistently. He refused to let go. And suddenly, he was looming over her with a hopeful little smile on his lips. "I like your first suggestion better," he murmured, before tracing his mouth over hers in the softest kiss imaginable. She drew in an unsteady breath as she regarded him through wide, incredulous eyes, hardly daring to believe what had just happened.

Then his mouth returned, settling more insistently in a coaxing caress, warm and firm and gentle. Her legs would have melted under her, but hard, strong arms were locking around her back, pulling her close. She was content to fist her hands into his black turtleneck and let his strength support her, until slowly, reluctantly, their lips parted and she could suddenly breathe again.

"Have I properly made amends?" he whispered with that strange, hopeful little smile.

Her own smile blossomed shyly. "Dunno," she breathed. "M-maybe you should kiss me again. To make sure."

And he did.


	14. Desire

_#42 Desire  
><em>_Characters: Usagi/Mamoru  
><em>_Words: 230_

He desired her above all else.

He desired her love, her touch, her kiss. He desired to taste the soft flesh of her throat, to breathe the fragrance of her skin, to bathe in her perfect, innocent beauty. He desired to lose himself in her eyes, to ease his loneliness in her arms. To feel her silken hair tangle around his hands as he buried them deep in the silken strands, to hear his name on her lips—moaned during the height of passion—as he embraced and entwined and made her completely his own.

But these thoughts were dangerous, not at all appropriate for someone of _his_ age to be thinking about someone of _hers_.

His heart tried to tell him that with real love, age didn't matter. His head overruled by reminding him that, according to certain laws, it really _did_, and he'd best stay far away if he knew what was good for his reputation. But it was so hard to push her away when all he longed to do was pull her close. It was nearly impossible to ignore the banked flames when they kindled and burned with each smile, each laugh, each tear she shed.

And it was _especially_ difficult to resist when he sometimes caught her just _looking_ at him, and was certain he could see the flames of his own desire mirrored within her eyes.


	15. Pointillism

_AN: Quick response to one of my reviewers, who was a bit confused. I wanted to specify that I write these drabbles strictly from the anime perspective. I read up to book four of the manga, but they were impossible to find at that point so I never finished reading the whole series. I find I like the anime better, anyway. As for age difference, In most of my stories I tend to write them being about four years apart. If Mamoru is in college in the anime, that would put him at about eighteen years. And Usagi is only fourteen, definitely a minor, which would probably give Mamoru some issues about persuing her at first._

_As stated in my beginning ANs, these drabbles aren't written in any kind of specific order, so in some of them they're a little older, and some they're still younger. But most of the drabbles tend to be centered around the first and second seasons, where Usagi is still definitely young._

_Hope I cleared up the confusion. Thanks for the review!_

* * *

><p><em>#40 Pointillism<br>__Characters: Usagi/Mamoru  
><em>_Words: 282_

"I don't get it," Usagi sniffled, curling into her boyfriend's side as she glared at her abysmal test paper. "I normally do pretty well in art class. It's a subject I actually _enjoy_. So how come I failed?"

Mamoru took the paper and looked it over. As he reached the bottom, he paused, eyebrow quirking. It was an essay question, and counted for fifty percent of the overall grade. "Usako," he began delicately, "you seem to have put in a lot of thought into the last question. It's very detailed."

"I know!" She looked indignant. "I worked hard on that one! I don't understand why Sensei didn't pass me!"

Mamoru cleared his throat. "Well, it's just that pointillism is a form of painting using many colored dots or strokes of paint, blended to create a larger picture. It's also called 'stipple'. Vincent Van Gogh used this method in his paintings."

Usagi's eyes widened. "R-really?"

"Really," he replied seriously. "Pointillism is _not_—" He cleared his throat again. "—a flowering plant with petals of red or white, found commonly in Mexico, often used as decoration in some western countries to celebrate the Christmas season." A small grin was attempting to escape his lips. "I believe that would be a 'Poinsettia' you were referring to."

A moment of awkward silence. Then, "Oh," she squeaked, embarrassed.

Mamoru shook his head and sighed, pulling her closer against him. "Usako, seriously, why would a test paper for your art class ask for the definition of a plant?"

"Ummm ... trick question?" she guessed.

"Next year, maybe you should take up botany, instead," he teased, and was rewarded with a light smack on the arm and a sheepish giggle.


	16. Valentines

_Shoulda posted this one a little earlier, probably. heh heh_

_#23 Valentines  
><em>_Characters: Usagi/Mamoru  
><em>_Words: 529_

How he hated Valentine's Day.

It was a day of sappy love confessions and tittering, google-eyed girls with hopeful faces. And chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate, presented to Mamoru by those hopeful, google-eyed girls on the off-chance that he might accept one and start dating her, like a normal guy. Too bad he wasn't exactly _normal_.

"I'm sorry, I don't feel that way for you," he told yet another nameless, tittering, google-eyed face. He turned to leave, having nothing else to say, only to jump in surprise when the rejected sparkly-wrapped chocolate rebounded off his head. Cries of "Heartless jerk!" permeated the wintry air as the former owner of said chocolate hightailed it down the street amid self-righteous sobs of despair, certain her heart was broken forevermore.

Mamoru sighed, picked up the crumpled box and tossed it into the street-side waste can, aware of the dark stares and mutterings of perfect strangers. It wasn't any of _their_ business, was it?

How he _hated_ Valentine's Day.

"Um, Mamoru-san?"

He paused mid-step and turned to regard the top of a familiar, golden head. Usagi stood there, shifting nervously from foot to foot, hands behind her back and eyes fixed firmly on the sidewalk between them. "Um…" she began, more nervously than before, and slowly brought out her hands. In one of them was clutched a small box wrapped clumsily with sparkly-pink paper, tied with a silver ribbon. "Y-you probably don't want this," she continued shakily, "but I stayed awake most of the night making it, s-so I thought it'd be stupid to have lost all that sleep and not at least _try_ to give it to you. So ... um ... here." She thrust her hands forward, the box teetering precariously on both palms, and waited for the rejection she felt certain was forthcoming.

After a moment, she felt the light weight of the box lift from her hands, and jerked her lowered face up in surprise to witness the astonishing sight of Mamoru carefully unwrapping her package, then opening the lid to regard the contents.

"I hope you like milk chocolate," she said anxiously, twisting her fingers together. "It was the only recipe I could find."

Mamoru continued to regard the gift, his eyes softening. It was a rather lopsided heart slightly larger than his fist, nestled in a bed of red tissue paper. It looked a bit darker than he thought milk chocolate ought to look, but she had written a slightly-crooked little message across the dull surface. In _English_.

"You in mine hart."

Mamoru cracked a little smile.

It was so imperfect.

It was so Usagi.

It was _so_ much better than every one of the perfectly-wrapped chocolates he'd rejected that day. He picked up the heart and took a small bite; it was slightly burnt, a little bitter, just as he'd expected. It was delicious.

"Would you like to have dinner?" he asked a startled Usagi. Her wide eyes and delighted smile answered, even before her ecstatic, "Yes!" She clung to his arm and snuggled into his side, and Mamoru relished it.

"I just love Valentine's Day," she sighed.

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "Me, too."


End file.
